


House Call

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Knee Injury Boyfriends [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Blow Jobs, Canon-compliant minor injury, Dom!Shea, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Kneeling, Light Bondage, M/M, Massage, sort of, sub!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3863983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because Shea and Steve had spent the night together a couple, okay a bunch, of times didn’t mean that Shea could just… affect him like that.  Steve had had plenty of casual-play arrangements with Doms around the country, and none of them could ever…<br/>Besides, Steve couldn’t kneel right now, not with his knee fucked up, and that meant he couldn't sub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maidoflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidoflight/gifts).



> Set right after the Predators/Flyers game in February, where the Flyers won in the shootout.
> 
> This is a work of fiction, I do not represent the people presented as characters in this fic and I don't make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives.

Sitting on your couch watching your team go to a _fucking shootout_ is a special kind of hell.  Steve scowled, his leg propped up on the couch next to him, his phone balanced on his thigh.  He was sending Zepp texts critiquing his form every time the puck got near him, doing what he could to help when he couldn’t even _practice_.

And he absolutely didn’t feel some sort of vindictive satisfaction when Zepp let in two goals.  Besides, even if he did, they still won in the shootout.  At least the team’s record wouldn’t suffer.

Steve forced himself through watching the post-game interviews, sending a couple texts to the guys about their games, receiving a few back telling him to fuck off or get better soon, in some combination.  Usually they only went with the suggestions he gave them because he was their goalie, but no one liked getting critiqued by a sub.  No one talked about the bar the team was going to after the game; they were playing the Caps tomorrow, and even if it was only now 4 in the afternoon, none of them were going to risk a hangover for tomorrow’s game.

That’s why it was a surprise when his doorbell rang.  Steve groaned, and considered not answering it.  There weren’t many reasons someone would be at his house on a Sunday afternoon, and none of them were worth getting off the couch.  But then the doorbell rang again, and again, and Steve figured he might as well get the door to get that noise to _stop_.  He pulled his leg off the couch, and used the arm of the couch to push up to his feet.  He hobbled over to the door, pulling it open and scowling out into the sun.

Shea was standing there, still in his game day suit, a bag slung over his shoulder.

“What,” Steve asked flatly.

“Missed you at the game,” Shea replied, stuffing a hand into his pocket.  It pulled his trousers tight over his crotch but _no Steve was not looking there_.  Just because they’d spent the night together a couple, okay a bunch, of times didn’t mean that Shea could just… affect him like that.  Steve had had plenty of casual-play arrangements with Doms around the country, and none of them could ever… Besides, Steve couldn’t kneel, couldn’t sub for him right now.

Steve rolled his eyes.  “If I was there you wouldn’t have even gotten a point out of it.”

Shea shrugged.  “Maybe.  But everyone would be playing differently, too.”

He narrowed his eyes.  Shea wasn’t leaving.  Steve huffed a sigh, and stepped back from the door.  “Come in, then.”

“Thanks,” Shea said, stepping inside and toeing off his dress shoes next to the door.  Steve rolled his eyes again and shut the door.

“You know I can’t sub for you right now,” Steve said, hobbling back to the couch.  “I can’t kneel.”

“You don’t need to kneel to sub,” Shea replied.  Steve looked back over his shoulder, then snorted and flopped onto the couch, pulling his legs up onto the cushions.

“Who says I want to sub for you anyway?”

Shea sat on the other side of the couch, pulling Steve’s feet onto his lap, curling his fingers around his ankles.  Steve slumped down a little, eyes falling to half-lidded.

“You liked it before,” Shea said quietly.  He was staring down at Steve’s feet, thumb rubbing over the ankle bone.  “But if you want me to leave, I will.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Steve huffed.  Shea looked over at him, eyebrow quirked.  “I’m just letting you know.  I can’t kneel.”

“I knew that before I came here,” Shea replied.  “And I already said, you don’t need to kneel.”

“What, so you’re just going to rub my feet all night?”

“If I want.”

Steve huffed again, and clasped his hands over his stomach.  “Well, if that’s what you want, then carry on.”

Shea laughed quietly, pressing his thumbs into the bottom of Steve’s right foot, starting to give him a passable foot massage.  Steve watched for a while, eyes darting between Shea’s face and his hands.  He didn’t really get why Shea was here at all, but then again, he didn’t get why Shea had approached him at all after the first game they played against each other, back when Steve was in Columbus.

He closed his eyes, sinking back into the couch cushions, relaxing bit by bit.  He didn’t realize how close to falling asleep he was until Shea stopped.

“Nh, keep going,” Steve grumbled, slumping down even more.

Shea chuckled.  “Like that, do you?”

Steve just frowned, eyes still shut, and pushed his foot up into Shea’s hand.

“Why don’t we go to your bed, and I’ll massage the rest of you?”

Steve peeked one eye open, studying Shea for a moment.  He looked completely at ease, still in his suit.

“Yeah,” he said, a little belated.  “Yeah, I’ve been sleeping in the guest room down here, so I don’t have to deal with the stairs.”

“Great,” Shea replied, picking Steve’s feet up off his lap and placing them back on the couch, then helping him to his feet.

Steve laid down as soon as they got into the room, stretching out on the bed.  He let Shea move his legs around, until they were spread a bit, and pull his arms up over his head.

“Don’t you need my clothes off?” Steve murmured.

“Do I?” Shea replied, a quirk to his lips.  “Do you want to take them off?”

“Yeah.”

Shea nodded, and helped him pull his tee shirt and sweats and boxers off.  Steve stretched out again once he was naked, putting his arms back above his head like Shea had placed him.

“Good,” Shea said, running a hand down his side approvingly.  “Now stay still for me.”

Steve hummed, watching as Shea pulled his jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up.

“Do you hurt anywhere?” Shea asked, sliding his palms down Steve’s chest, and tracing over his hips.

“Knee.”

“Besides there?”

Steve shook his head.  Shea nodded, and dragged his hands down Steve’s thighs.  “I’m gonna leave your knee alone.  I don’t want to do any damage to it by accident.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.  Shea dug the heels of his palms in along Steve’s quads, drawing a moan out of him.  Shea pushed up, pressing the tension out of Steve’s muscles.

Shea did avoid Steve’s injured knee, but he didn’t leave any other part of him untouched.  His thick fingers and large palms traced every line of every muscle up and down Steve’s body, sucking out tension that Steve didn’t know he was carrying.  Finally, Shea was using short presses of his finger tips to Steve’s hands, where they rested just under the headboard.

“How do you feel now?” Shea asked.  Steve’s eyes fluttered open; he felt relaxed, dazed in a way he normally only was when someone put him on his knees.

“Good,” Steve murmured, smiling up at Shea.

“Good.”  He kissed Steve softly, sliding his hand down to Steve’s cock.  It was a shock when Steve noticed he was hard, and he barely stopped himself from bucking up into Shea’s hand.  “What do you want?”

“Shea,” Steve moaned, bringing his hands down to grip Shea’s shoulders.

Shea pulled his hand back, and grabbed Steve’s wrists.  “I told you to stay still, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, staring up into Shea’s eyes.  He blinked slowly.  “You told me not to move.”

“Am I gonna have to tie you down?”

Steve groaned, wrists flexing in Shea’s grip.  “Yeah, Shea, shit…”

“Only your arms,” Shea muttered, climbing off of him and grabbing his bag, taking a coil of rope from inside it.  “You’ll have to keep your legs still for me yourself.”

Steve nodded readily, holding his wrists up by the headboard.  Shea bound Steve’s wrists to each other efficiently, testing as he went to make sure he wasn’t cutting off circulation, before tying off the rope on one of the slats of the headboard.  He stuffed a pillow under Steve’s bad knee, then pulled his thighs apart, patting his legs to encourage him to stay there.  Steve settled with a sigh, eyes falling half-closed.

Shea put his hand back around Steve’s cock, giving him a slow stroke.  Steve groaned, hips barely moving into the touch, but his legs and arms didn’t move.

“You like me touching you?” Shea asked.  Steve nodded, looking up at him, as Shea pumped him a little faster.  “Say it.”

“I like you touching me,” Steve said immediately.  He was panting a bit, now, muscles in his stomach twitching.

“Yeah?  You like it when I tie you up and touch your cock?”

“I like it when you tie me up and touch my cock,” Steve echoed, but it was anything but empty repetition.

“And you’re gonna come all over yourself, so I can watch?”  Steve could see Shea getting a bit embarrassed, a bright flush spreading over his checks.

“Yeah, just for you,” Steve moaned, eyelids fluttering.  “Shea…”

Shea gave him a few short, rapid strokes, until Steve was coming over his stomach with a loud groan, toes curling and heels digging into the bed, but not moving from where Shea had placed him.

“Good,” Shea murmured, coaxing him down with a few light strokes, until Steve was shivering.  Shea used a corner of the sheet to wipe off Steve’s stomach, then touched his cheek gently so Steve would look at him.

“You’re good?”

“Mmmm,” Steve hummed, turning his face into Shea’s hand.  “Yeah, ‘m good.”

“Do you want me to untie you now?” Shea asked.

“No,” Steve said, and licked his lips.  “Did you come yet?”

“No.”

“I want to suck you off.”  Steve looked up at him and licked his lips again.  Shea raised an eyebrow.  “If that’s what you want, Sir.”

“Good save,” Shea replied, a grin spreading over his face.  He cupped Steve’s cheek, running a thumb over his lower lip.  “I want to fuck your mouth.”

Steve’s eyes closed, a small moan slipping out.  “Yes, Sir, please, fuck my mouth.”

Shea pulled back, undoing his belt and the zip of his suit pants.  He opened his pants and tugged them and his briefs down just enough that he could pull his cock out.  He gave himself a couple light strokes, then gripped the base and held his cock against Steve’s lips.  Steve opened his mouth, licking over the tip, before Shea thrust in halfway.

Steve moaned around his cock, opening his mouth wider.  Shea’s cock was thick, filling his mouth and stretching his lips.  It wasn’t overly long, though, the perfect size to fill Steve’s throat without choking him, or hit his prostate with ease, if Shea wanted to fuck him.  Shea pulled back an inch, and thrust forward again. Steve focused on keeping his throat open, even as it fluttered around the head of Shea’s cock.

Shea groaned, his hand leaving his cock and sliding into Steve’s hair.  He fisted the strands, tugging lightly, and tilted Steve’s head back so he could slide in deeper.  When he pulled back, Steve took a shuddering breath, and then Shea thrust back in all the way.  Steve moaned again, eyes sliding shut.

Shea thrust unevenly a few times before he could start a steady rhythm, cock sliding in out and of Steve’s mouth, hips pressing to his face every time he thrust in.  Steve managed to take breaths whenever Shea pulled back, keeping himself from choking on the thick length.

“Swallow around me,” Shea panted, thrusting in again and again; Steve complied, swallowing around his cock just as Shea thrust in deep again.  Shea groaned, hips stuttering, before he sunk back into his rhythm.

“I’m gonna come all over your face,” Shea growled, thrusting faster.  “All over your pink cheeks and red lips, so you know you’re _mine_.”

Steve moaned and swallowed convulsively around Shea’s cock.  He pulled out, all the way; Steve tried to follow and get his mouth back around him, but Shea’s hand tightened in his hair and held him in place.  A few moments later, Steve felt the spatters of Shea’s come over his mouth, his cheeks, some on his neck.

Once Shea’s hand in his hair loosened, Steve opened his eyes, just enough to look up Shea.  He was sweating, red in the face and eyes bright.  Steve flicked his tongue over his lips, licking up some of Shea’s come and swallowing it.

“You look so good like this,” Shea murmured, running his hand through Steve’s short hair.  “Now that you’re all mine.”

“Of course, Sir,” Steve replied, his voice scratchy.  “All yours.”

Shea looked down at him for a moment, thick fingers running along Steve’s scalp, before he sat up and leaned over him.  “I’m going to untie you now.”

“All right,” Steve sighed, holding still as Shea undid the knots, coiled the rope, and rubbed Steve’s wrists gently.

“I’ve got some Gatorade,” Shea said quietly.  “You’re gonna drink some, and have a couple bites of a powerbar.”

“Not hungry,” Steve muttered.

“You will be,” Shea told him.  He opened the Gatorade and held it to Steve’s mouth, tilting it just a bit at a time so that Steve could take small sips.  Next was the powerbar, just enough given to him at a time for a small bite.

“I should wash you off,” Shea said, mostly to himself, looking over Steve as he spread out on the bed.

“Not yet?” Steve asked, looking up at him.  “I like it.”

Shea smiled, like he couldn’t help it, and nodded.  “All right, I’ll leave it for now.  You take a nap, and then you can shower.”

Steve nodded and closed his eyes.  Shea shed his clothes, finally, and slid into bed next to him.  He couldn’t pull Steve against him like he wanted, not with Steve’s knee injured, but he could still curl around him and throw an arm over his chest.  He pulled the comforter up from the foot of the bed, making sure Steve was completely covered, before settling down to nap.

“Thank you, Sir,” Steve murmured, turning his head to face Shea, eyes opening a sliver.

“Of course,” Shea replied gruffly, cheeks flaming.  “Go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, closing his eyes, and falling asleep within moments.  Shea tucked Steve’s face into his neck, arm tightening around his chest.  He didn’t care about getting come on him; they’d just shower together when they woke up.

He smiled to himself, and fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo my partner (titinius on tumblr) wanted a fic, and their favorite player is steve mason, and we'd talked about Shea Weber, the Dommiest Dom at length, and this is what emerged.
> 
> I've already started on a sequel because I am literal trash #kneeinjuryboyfriends


End file.
